"Great heavens!" I muttered. "What have I struck?"
[Illustration: "'L LUL LET ME OUT!' HE GASPED "]
"L-lul-let me out!" he gasped. "Don't you see you are squ-queezing
my figure out of shape? Get bub-back, blank it!"
"I can't," I panted. "I'm sorry, but--"
"Sorry be hanged!" he roared. "This is my place, you idiot--"
This was too much for me, and in my inability to kick him with my
foot I did it with my knee, and then, if I had not been excited, I
should have learned the unhappy truth. My knee went straight through
him and shoved the man ahead into the coat-tails of the bobbie in
front. It was fortunate for me that it happened as it did, for the
front-row man was wrathful enough to have struck me; but the police
took care of him; and as he was carried away on a stretcher, the
little jelly-fish came back into his normal proportions, like an
inflated India-rubber toy.
"What the deuce are you, anyhow?" I cried, aghast at the spectacle.
"You'll find out before you are a year older!" he wrathfully
answered. "I'll show you a shoving trick or two that you won't like,
you blooming Yank!"
It made me excessively angry to be called a blooming Yank.
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